Letters from Everyone
The Drayton Theatre
11th December 2014

★★★★★

There are romantic ideas about London: as a city, many people agree it has a personality. Most Londoners would probably say that it's a cynical, fatuous, belligerent personality, but there it is. In Letters from Everyone we see this personality from the viewpoint of Sam (Amy Cornwell), a homeless girl whose Londonian cynicism is deep-rooted.

The idea of everyday tragedy on the streets has been explored before, but this take on it doesn't try to address the "issue" of homelessness, moreover it is a play in its own right where one character happens to live on the street. My favourite thing about Sam is how sorry she made me for prejudging her - it's a great thing to look back at a play and reflect on how my mind changed about her in every scene. The seemingly obviously street-wise, somewhat chavvy, very observant, urchinous girl gave very subtle hints all the way through the play - "my imagination keeps me company", "I physically can't tell you" - about her autistic side.

But it is only really through the insights of the local police officer Julia (Emma Pring) that we are slowly drawn to the conclusion that Sam is on the spectrum. Julia - who as a long-serving officer in the Met has cynicism in spades - starts off extremely brusque to the point of offensiveness: "If it's a murder, please let it be a black kid." Not because she is racist, but because the public is, and the media will hound her if a victim is white. All credit to her though, she has a nose for the not-quite-right, and the memorial for the murdered white boy where Sam hangs around just feels wrong to her copper senses. Pring delivers this as a one-woman good-cop-bad-cop, flipping from desiccated sarcasm to genuine caring when she talks to people, and delivering the classically meaningless "we are continuing to investigate".

Through various monologues, the characters explain their inner thoughts. Sam's are very erudite and articulate despite being very monosyllabic in her dialogue, which is another clue to her deeper problems. Sam also spends a lot of time hanging around the strangely useless Jamie (Tim Gibson), who all the way through the play materialises whenever Sam is getting down. At first he seems quite an odd character, as if a child has made up a floppy haired buffoon just for the sake of having a funny fellow around to be a clown and to talk to. I'd be giving too much away if I explained how, but Steven Lally's excellent writing reveals some interesting and unexpected truths about Jamie...

The fourth character, Andy (Cameron Robertson) is the source of the dramatic conflict in the play. His son's memorial is helping Sam's begging, and this stokes the fires of his grief for his son to anger and fury - which he takes out on the "scum" of the street. The scenes of violence from the tall powerful drunk man are sadistic to the point of disturbing, so we're left feeling very sorry for the humiliated, threatened and wounded Sam. Robertson's grief and subsequent descent into depression and alcohol are well-portrayed, and again we get the cynicism at a world full of peace and happiness from the perspective of a man to whom every venture is futile - his son is dead, his own life may as well be over.

The drama from the four performers is cleverly layered onto a gritty backdrop of London. During scene changes, nameless faceless characters bustle to-and-fro on the stage in isolated black coats, trying to avoid looking at each other, or Sam. There’s litter, dirt, Sam's bed of cardboard, and the whole stage is made up of maps of the great city (kudos to Ellis Higgins for the set design). The direction by Niall Phillips has nurtured the characters into their emotional extremes, and somehow channels the personality of London itself through the characters, with all its moments of hope and goodwill through the mean and selfish thoughts.

We are left feeling sorry for the desperately unloved and misunderstood Sam. Despite it not being a homeless issues play, she nevertheless becomes a cypher for some (stressing some) of those we see every day - those who, despite their miserable situation, do not seem to want to move on from their lives, just to simply feel. Letters from Everyone is a hard-hitting piece, which will make you simply feel as well.

Letters from Everyone opened on 25th November and runs until 20th December 2014 at the Drayton Theatre.

Nearest tube station: Gloucester Road (Piccadilly, Circle, District)